Sleepy Hollow

I am sleepy.  Like, most of the time.  On weekends, most of my favorite moments are spent with Oliver and Michael, but the rest of them, well, are spent napping. 

One Sunday, when Oliver fell asleep for his afternoon nap, I asked Michael if he was planning to take a nap with the rest of us. 

"You know, I've been thinking," he said.  "We really don't need to nap.  It's not like we're children."  He quickly corrected himself:  "I mean, you're pregnant, so you should totally nap, but I'm just not sure I should be."

Two minutes later he tucked himself into bed.

Today at 2 o'clock, I found myself strangely not drop-dead tired as usual.  I wrapped a birthday present for a 3-year-old little friend whose birthday party we were scheduled to go to after naptime (which precarious roads prevented us from getting to after all.)  The last ribbon tied, I did a strange thing.  I didn't hop into bed.  I continued to work on crafts.  And I realized that while Oliver's naptime provided much-needed me-time, I can't always appreciate that it exists if I'm unconscious.  I can't spend happy time with my glue gun, cardstock, and photos if I'm busy dreaming hormonal, super-weird dreams.  In addition to the birthday gift and its wrapping job, I happily completed three hand-made cards and the beginnings of an ornament. 

(Don't be too impressed- it should be noted here that there may have been a skim half-caf Mint Condition Caribou coffee waiting for me in the kitchen to help me make the decision of not napping today).

Later on, Oliver and I braved the roads as far as...our own town, to meet my parents for dinner at Cracker Barrel.  I noticed an advertisement on the table for winter cloaks, "A Cracker Barrel exclusive at $20."

"Mom!" I laughed, showing her the picture.  "Here's my answer to an expensive, over-priced maternity coat!," I joked. I explained that with 5 weeks to go, I can't button, zip, or cover anything, but refuse to buy a maternity coat when I have just over a month left to wear it.

My Mom smiled and was about to laugh when she said, "well actually, you may have an idea." 

"Mom." I said and looked at her seriously.  "I was kidding.  I'd look like something out of freaking Sleepy Hollow."

Now she really laughed, but then followed it up with, "I'll buy it for you."

Well now...

I left Cracker Barrel overly-full but with plenty of room to spare under my new cloak. 

I walked into the house, where Michael had been working on the basement.  He took one look at me and said, "Oh! Okay."

I was quick to announce that this was clearly function over fashion, and I was lucky to snag the one style that did not display fur around its collar.

I ran off to Cub, where I took my color-coded grocery shopping list divided up into food categories, my coupons, and my determination to save money.  Part of my nesting this time around has included a crazed attempt to be a Couponer.  We're talking cross-referencing manufacturer's coupons with weekly sales, making trips to both Target and Cub each week to get the best deals, and making room in the pantry for 48 granola bars at a time because that's what gave us the best deal.  I have a contest with myself to see what percentage of my bill I can save in coupons and sales, so getting home to check out the receipt brings me strange exhilaration. 

When I returned to my car, my breath was caught in frigid gusts of wind.  It was bad enough that into the backseat I was loading 48 cans of soda (which I don't even drink, but visiting friends do, and hello, it was a Price Shoker-category of coupon so I risked pre-term labor and hauled them into the cart). I hauled and grunted, tears streaming down my face from the whipping wind.  And then, in a nanosecond, I saw my receipt and handful of coupons earned (including a discount for gas!) swirl up into the air and dance along the snowy parking lot.  I let out an explicative, and in a desperate attempt to uphold my Couponing madness, ran around in the slush to procure the four little pieces of paper, my Sleepy Hollow cloak billowing behind me.  Where was Johnny Depp when I needed him?  No one ran me over.  I think they were afraid of me. 

Meanwhile, at home, Oliver has had a bit of a sleepy day himself.  When Michael told Oliver this morning it was time for a diaper change, Oliver whimpered a desperate plea to avoid daytime clothes: "No, pajamas.  No, pajamas!," and grabbed at his new fleece PJs protectively.  We agreed to just change the diaper and zip him back up in his footies.  5 minutes later, my nesting took me to the mudroom, where I buried myself in single gloves, outgrown boots and an excess of scarves.  I threw on last year's winter hat on Ollie's head, and to my happy surprise, it fit.  To an even greater surprise, Oliver refused to remove it.  For four hours.  Oh, and he found his sunglasses, too.

He watched all 89 minutes of Curious George II with this ensemble on.  Including the glasses. That was this morning. Just as I left for my grocery run (literally) tonight, I walked into the living room to find Oliver ending the day as it had began.  Legendary.